Hand and other Rambles
by AniDragon aka Riona-chan
Summary: A set of 50 rambles between 100 and 500 words for a contest on a forum I'm on. Fifth Drabble up: You Gave us Someplace to Go. An Avian merchant thanks Zane and Danica for their progress on peace.
1. Hand

He had such beautiful hands.

It's strange that these were my last thoughts as he killed me. Beautiful, perfect hands.

His name was Aubrey.

I met him at a party a friend of mine brought me to. I was afraid, at first. I wasn't usually the type to go to frat parties and stuff, and her warning to not stay passed midnight was a bit creepy, but it was her birthday, so I indulged her.

It was a bit like morbid curiosity as soon as I walked into the door. The urge to bolt out was second only to the urge to stay and find out _why_ I wanted to bolt.

Aubrey was sitting on the couch with his arms around a woman, and his hands tangled in her hair. I was fixated on those hands, which looked like idealized hands that a sculptor would strive for. Looking at the rest of him, I realized that it wasn't just his hands. The man looked like an ancient Greek sculpture come to life. I was so entranced by him that I barely even noticed when he separated himself from her to come to my side.

I jumped a little when I realized that he was standing in front of me and staring at me, then giggled a bit and managed to mutter something along the lines of "Wow, I didn't even have a drink, yet!"

He grinned and motioned over to the couch, where the girl he'd been with earlier had already left to find someone else to make out with.

"My name's Aubrey," He introduced himself, "I'm hosting this party. You're new here, aren't you?"

I nodded, "Jennifer brought me. It's her birthday."

"Well, I have to say that I'm glad she did," He said, his voice almost a purr, "It's always nice to see new meat here."

When he said that, I thought that he was just joking around. Little did I know that that's how he actually thought of me.

When I told him that I didn't go to parties very often, he designating himself as my official tour-guide to party life. I thought it might be a good idea, then, to ask him why Jennifer had warned me not to stay passed midnight.

He grinned a bit, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear—giving me another chance to look at his gorgeous hands—and whispered, "Midnight is when things get… dangerous."

I thought he was talking in innuendo. I figured he meant that it was things got really rowdy. Normally this would have scared me, but with Aubrey there, I felt like I could take on the world.

It came as a surprise to me, then, when midnight struck, and Aubrey brought his head down to my neck. Immediately I felt week, though it didn't hurt.

When he released me, and I felt darkness overcome me, he reached over my face and placed his hand over my eyes to close them forever.

Such beautiful hands…


	2. Velvet

She always called me Jaguar.

It made sense, since it was my second form. It was also appropriate that she chose the name, since she's the one who made me aware of my shapeshifter heritage.

What bothered me were the other names she called me: Pet, slave, mine… And that's just to name a few.

I belonged to her, completely and totally.

I was her favorite bleeder. She told me once that the blood of shapeshifters not only tasted better, but was stronger and more potent than human blood because of the magic in it.

She would call me to her, and I would enter the room to see her lying on her velvet sheets. I wasn't allowed on those sheets, and she would hurt me if I so much as touched them. Instead, I would kneel in front of her, offering my neck should she want it, but listening carefully in case she had other intentions.

Sometimes, she would take me in her arms and bite me. It never hurt. In fact, it felt nice. Vampires had a way of playing with people's minds to erase the pain, so all I felt was the closeness to my mistress, and her satisfaction as her emotions leaked through a bit into my own mind.

Sometimes, she would want a backrub, which was the only time I could go onto her bed, onto the perfect velvet sheets. Never without permission, though. Even if it was her orders, I still had to ask permission before touching those sheets.

This was my life, catering to her every desire. I lived only for her.

And then I died for her. But she wouldn't let me die in peace. She made me like her. She gave me her blood, making me immortal. I was free, now. Vampires were all free-blood, so she could no longer hold any claim on me. For the first time in years, I was free.

I thought it was a blessing, but I soon realized that I was wrong. This was just another way for her to toy with me. Because now, I had no direction. I didn't know how to function without receiving orders. I was free, but I was still hers.

Centuries later, I thought I had learned to be free. I thought I was no longer under her influence. So long as I didn't see her, I would still be free.

But still, I would never touch velvet sheets.


	3. Gorge

"You spelled George wrong," 7-year-old Adianna whispered to her little sister, looking over at her page.

Sarah looked at her page, where she had drawn a funny looking spider. On top of it was the name 'Gorge the Spider'.

"No I didn't!" She whispered back.

"You did, too!" Adianna retorted. "George is spelled G-E-O-R-G-E."

"That's stupid," Sarah muttered.

"And what, may I ask, is stupid?" A new voice had joined the conversation.

Both girls froze, then slowly looked up, recognizing the voice as the one of their mother, Dominique.

Sarah flushed, while Adianna let the calm Vida mask that she'd already perfected take over, "Nothing important, mother. We were discussing a spelling error, is all."

"Let me see," Dominique demanded.

Sarah handed the drawing to her mother almost fearfully. The woman eyed the page for a few seconds before crumpling the paper and tossing it in the garbage, "It's spelled G-E-O-R-G-E. And you mustn't waste your time with silly drawings like this, Sarah. Remember, you're a Vida. We weren't born as witches to become artists. You should be focusing on your training. How would that drawing help you if a leech attacked us today?"

Properly chastised, Sarah looked down to her feet and nodded, "I understand, mother."

"Good. Now, get back to your studies," Dominique ordered before leaving the room.

Sarah sat on her bed, a childish pout on her face. Adianna watched her for a second, before going over to the trash and digging out the drawing. She quickly put the paper in her sister's hand.

"Put 'Gorge' somewhere she won't find him."

Sarah's face brightened, and she nodded, hiding the drawing under her pillow quickly.


	4. Cookies

Sarah watched as Christopher gobbled down another chocolate chip cookie.

"I didn't know vampires could eat normal food," She commented absentmindedly.

He raised an eyebrow, "How could you not know? You've been a vampire, yourself, for weeks, now. Plus, you're a Vida. You spent your whole life hunting down vampires. I figured you'd know everything about us, by now."

She shrugged, "I really only concentrated on the dangerous vampires, then. I only ever saw them—er, us—drink blood."

Christopher rolled his eyes, "Come on, I KNOW you saw me eat normal food before. It doesn't give us as much energy as blood, but if were stuck, it'll sustain us. How else do you think I've avoided feeding off humans all this time?"

Sarah shrugged again, "I thought you just fed off animals, or something. That's what I've been doing since I've been turned."

"I do that, too, yeah," Christopher admitted, "But animals alone are a bit dull. Come on, don't you miss the taste of cookies?"

At this point, he had picked up a teasing tone, and dangled a cookie in front of her face.

This time it was her turn to roll her eyes, "I didn't even like cookies when I was human, let alone now."

Christopher's eyes widened, "You don't like cookies?! But… But they're cookies! How can you not like them?"

"I just never developed a taste for them. Mother always encouraged Adianna and I to eat healthy food."

"Well, they're not unhealthy," He persuaded, "You don't have to worry about cholesterol and stuff like that, now that you're undead. Come on, just try it."

"Fine," She agreed, grabbing the cookie from him and taking a bite.

Christopher watched her as she chewed her bite slowly, then swallowed.

"Well?"

"Too dry," She complained, handing the rest of the cookie back to him, "If you're going to make me eat cookies, at least find some good cookies."

"Hey, I made these myself!" He protested.

"Well, you can't cook, then!" Sarah argued, "Or you at least can't cook cookies."

Christopher pouted as he munched on the remains of the cookie. He glanced sideways at her once, then looked away.

"Picky eater," He mumbled, then stuffed the rest of the cookie in his moulth.


	5. You Gave us Someplace to Go

"Milady Shardae?"

I turned to the nervous voice. It was coming from a raven shopkeeper nearby. He seemed surprised that I had heard him, and fumbled for a second. I could see his face grow even more nervous when he noticed that Zane had heard him as well, but he quickly gathered his resolved and nodded his greeting. He even made an effort to meet my mate's eyes. It wasn't for long, but it was admirable, and not something most Avians would do.

"Hello," I greeted, taking a look at his wares; He was selling different types of scarves and the like for cold weather. And—to my surprise—melos scarves for Serpiente dancers. I took a moment to try and remember his name. I always made an effort to know the people of my court. It came to me quickly as I recognized him as the young man Eleanor had been eyeing.

"Branden, right?"

He nodded and smiled, "Yes. I'm honoured that you remember it."

I smiled politely, "Was there something on your mind?"

He flushed, "Ah, that was…" He looked around a bit at the court; It was still fairly new, but already Avians and Serpiente were both setting up shops and even walking in the streets together. After a few seconds of looking around, he turned his attention back towards Zane and me, "I just wanted to say thank you. What you and your alaistair have done—Ending the war and combining our people—it's beautiful. Wyvern's court seems like something out of a dream."

My smiled changed, then, from that of a polite monarch, to one with true warmth and happiness. Wyvern's Court was the fruit of Zane's and my hard work and determination for peace.

"We're happy to hear that," Zane spoke up, placing his hand on my shoulder.

Branden's face, which had finally regained it's natural colour, flushed once again at the sight of even such small physical contact, but he recovered quickly, "It's also… You gave us someplace to go. During the war, one could barely expect to live a proper life. I know I'm not the only one to have lost loved ones… But now, we can focus on the things that matter. I may be a humble merchant, but at least now I'm not a humble merchant who'll need to pick up a sword some day."

"I'm glad," I told him, "I hope that none of my people will need to pick up a sword ever again."

He nodded again to both Zane and me, "Well, I think I've kept you long enough. Fly with grace, milady."

"You as well," I responded, leaving his shop with a feeling of warmth in my stomach.

If more people could think like Branden did, our peace would stand a real chance.


End file.
